


A Slice of Heaven

by ectoheart, Seakays



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hermione is a Baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoheart/pseuds/ectoheart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seakays/pseuds/Seakays
Summary: Hermione Granger thought she had lost her chance at love.  But sometimes the road to love is neither straight nor smooth.  Sometimes it takes a completely different route altogether.“If you are lucky enough to get a second chance at love, don’t waste it.”
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley
Comments: 69
Kudos: 240
Collections: DH, Deck The Halls with Dramione





	A Slice of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written as a companion to this absolutely stunning drawing by Ectoheart. I was overwhelmed by how beautiful this art was, and I hope that my little story can be even a tiny bit as good. Do yourself a favour and check out all her other work. Amazing ! 
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/ectoheart.art/>Instagram
> 
> Huge and massive thanks to my marvellous Alpha and Beta, RDLentz8 who is honest and amazing and so infinitely supportive. 
> 
> To Kyonomiko, thank you for giving me some of yourself for inspiration. 
> 
> To LadyKenz347, thank you for putting together this collection, and for your trust. It means the world to me . 
> 
> I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I make no profit from this work.

Hermione Granger took a step back from where she had been working, lifting her arms high above her head, stretching her spine. Looking critically at her work from all sides, she smiled, finally satisfied that the gingerbread houses she had been working on were nothing short of perfect. 

Transferring the delicate cookies to the display counter where her staff would artfully arrange them, she took a glance at the order desk and grimaced. With only a week to go before Christmas Eve, Hermione knew that she would be working some very long hours over the next few days. Hard work didn’t bother her, and she was ecstatic with the success her little bakery had enjoyed the last five years. Staying busy during her favourite time of year would keep her from focusing too long on the massive vacuum that was her love life. 

Hermione knew that everyone had expected her to settle down with Ron Weasley, and for a very short time after the War, she had the very same expectations. However, as the press in the Wizarding World had learned over the past few years, the Golden Trio rarely did anything that was “expected” of them. 

Harry, having had his fill of danger and death turned down an offer to the Auror Corps and instead went into business with Theodore Nott, opening an exclusive garden centre in Ottery St. Catchpole _. Nott Hard to Pott _ took a few years to get off the ground, but now their beautiful arrangements and unique plants, cultivated from both Muggle and magical species, were considered de rigour at any society wedding or event. Theo and Harry co-managed the shop, and after a disastrous attempt at cross-pollinating devil’s snare with a muggle tea rose, they smartly hired Neville Longbottom as head herbologist. Harry had further defied expectations by not marrying Ginny Weasley but having a torrid on/off relationship with Cho Chang for the past three years. Still not married, their twins, Ella and James, were two of Hermione’s many godchildren. 

After the war, Ron wanted to travel, and smartly banking on his fame, he became a Wizarding Chess coach for five Wizarding Schools around the world. His students were handpicked from the very best. For the last three years a Weasley trained student had been the WWCM (Wizarding World Chess Master), proving his success time and time again. 

Thinking back, Hermione could hardly believe that her younger self possessed the stones necessary to set up her own business at nineteen. Disillusioned with the Ministry, and fresh from the least dramatic breakup in history, Hermione had found herself at a crossroads in her career. Call it fate, intuition, or serendipity, but Hermione had come upon a dilapidated old bakery shop just a stones throw from Ollivander’s. Using the money she had received from her Order of Merlin, and a healthy loan from Harry, she purchased the store and the bakery equipment inside within a fortnight. For the next year she worked hard, gutting the store and renovating it into the adorable bakery and bistro she owned today. Her gift for potions served her well in baking, and she used the next year to create signature items, along with the usual cookies, cakes, and pies. She hired Lavender Brown to run the front of the store and Susan Bones as an assistant baker. It took her another year to find a skilled cake decorator for her growing business, but in a fluke meeting at the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione ended up hiring Viktor Krum’s sister, Sonia. 

_ A Slice of Heaven _ opened to quiet fanfare, but soon word of mouth was enough to keep her store busy seven days a week. But when her vintage cherry chip wedding cake was featured at Ron and Luna’s wedding, her little bakery became as famous as its owner. Within two years, the catering side of the business was so busy, that Hermione purchased the shop next door, and wisely hired Ginny Zabini (nee Weasley) the tireless mother of two to manage that side of the business. 

Hermione led an immensely fulfilling life. She had a business she was proud of, she was constantly surrounded by her friends and their children, but as the calendar turned towards Christmas, she found it hard to be the single one once again. It had always been a dream of hers to get married at Christmas, surrounded by snow and evergreens, with deep red roses in her hair. But the imaginings of her youth were being slowly worn down by the reality of her present. Not that she wanted for male attention. Being a successful business witch, combined with her rather pixie-like beauty made setting her up for blind dates a favourite pastime of her friends. And while their blind dates had resulted in lots of fun, nothing ever stuck. She supposed, when she was being truly honest with herself, that she couldn’t give her heart to anyone new, as she had given it away when she was twenty, and foolishly had never gotten it back. 

****

Her infatuation with Draco Malfoy had started during their NEWT year at Hogwarts. They were two of only eight students who had returned to earn their NEWTS. They almost instantly forged a grudging respect for each other solidified by their love of learning. Without the pressures of war, and the influence of family and friends, the two students who had lost so much became inseparable by Christmas. 

In hindsight, Hermione now understood that all the signs she had thought were indicators of his desire to pursue a romantic relationship had been grossly misinterpreted. Thinking about all the time she spent imagining her future with Draco still made her burn with embarrassment. By the time they had graduated from Hogwarts, Hermione was completely besotted with the tall blond and his intriguing intelligence and posh manners. Every time he gently held her hand to help her up made her swoon, each note he passed her signed, “Yours, Draco,” had her convinced they had a romantic connection. Oh, how he must have laughed at her silly childish blushes, and star-struck eyes. 

After Hogwarts, they kept up a daily correspondence and weekly dates for drinks or coffee. In fact, it was Draco who had been so invaluable during the first year of her business start-up. He was there with advice, and connections and so much laughter. His experience with running the Malfoy family businesses made him the ideal sounding board. Once she opened for business, Draco sent many a Sacred Twenty-Eight family member to her store, and she knew it was as much his endorsement as her flair for tiramisu and chocolate cream pies that grew her business in those first few months.

But her juvenile dreams of curly-haired, grey-eyed children had all come to a screeching halt one late fall Sunday. There on the front page of the Daily Prophet’s society page was the very object of her heart’s desire holding hands with Astoria Greengrass. The headline was typically trashy, but as she read it, she swore she couldn’t breathe, that her lungs had simply stopped working, and she would never be able to draw a complete breath again. 

_ “Dishy Death Eater to Wed Sexy Socialite, details on page six.” _

Ignoring the multitude of floo calls and owls from her friends who had long known of her crush, Hermione read the article at least a dozen times; each time, a small portion of her heart was irreparably destroyed. The details meant nothing to her: three-carat diamond, an Easter wedding, six bridesmaids and groomsmen, a two-month honeymoon in Fiji. None of that mattered. What hurt the most, and there were just so many things that hurt, was that he had never even mentioned Astoria once in the last three years. Never hinted at a wedding- or even a girlfriend! He had seemed to spend all his free time with her. 

Even though he obviously didn’t return her feelings, she had thought that they were friends, the best of friends, and now she felt doubly betrayed, humiliated, and so incredibly sad that he hadn’t picked her. As she sat at her kitchen table, with a cold cup of Earl Grey in her hand, she became aware of a constant pecking at her window. 

A beautiful tawny barn owl stood outside holding a piece of parchment in its beak. It was Daisy, Draco’s personal owl. Hermione adored the beautiful bird, and her heart took another hit as she realized that she would probably never see her again. As she stood staring out at the owl desperately trying to decide if she wanted to read what Draco had sent, Daisy cocked her head to one side and looked so sad, that Hermione relented and let her in. Daisy hopped to the kitchen counter and started chattering at her in the way she always had since Hermione had known her. Absently stroking the gentle bird, Hermione started at the parchment contemplating simply using _ Incendio _ to reduce Draco’s words to ash. 

Her curiosity won over her shattered heart, and as she opened the note fresh tears welled up just seeing his beautiful handwriting. The message was short and wholly unsatisfactory.

_ I’m sorry. _

_ Meet me at our place today at noon. _

_ Please, Hermione. _

_ Please. _

_ Yours, Draco _

Ginny, Luna, Ron, and Harry had found her still sobbing, note in hand an hour later. In an instant, Harry had scooped her up into a tight embrace that became an awkward ten-armed hug shortly thereafter. After threats from Ron and Harry to disembowel the ferret, and nonsensical calming words from Ginny and Luna, Hermione extracted a promise from all of them that they would leave Draco Malfoy alone. After all, he had never once promised her anything, had never kissed her, had never  _ EVER _ intimated that he wanted anything beyond friendship and a few laughs. She obviously had spectacularly misread the situation, and she alone was responsible for her broken heart.

It was Ginny who finally asked if she was going to meet Draco, but as they sat around Hermione’s kitchen table, they all watched her clock slowly tick past twelve. As Hermione started the long process of repairing her heart, she couldn’t have known that sitting on a park bench at Wiltshire Park, was a tall blond wizard, clutching a small stuffed otter. She wouldn’t have realized that long after the church in the square announced the noon hour, he remained. She had no way of knowing that as the same clock tower struck one, he finally stood, leaving the tiny toy behind, a look of desperate anguish on his face.

After the engagement announcement, Hermione threw herself even deeper into work, and  _ A Slice of Heaven _ continued its path to success. While Draco and Hermione had not spoken a word to each other alone since the article, the Wizarding world was small, and with numerous mutual friends, they were thrown together at many events and galas. They were always unfailingly polite, it was _ , Miss Granger, this and Mr. Malfoy, that. _ No one would ever have suspected that they had once been the very best of friends.

Every meeting caused the ache in her heart to throb with increased intensity, but no interaction in the past could have ever prepared Hermione to see Astoria and Daphne Greengrass enter  _ A Slice of Heaven _ about three months before the “ _ biggest wedding in Wizarding history _ .”

Astoria Greengrass was one of those classic 1940’s film noir style beauties. Sleek, artfully coiffed blond hair, rail-thin, with sharp features. She had impeccable fashion sense, and yet, while she looked every inch the aristocrat, Hermione knew that she had a philanthropic side a kilometre long. The Greengrass family had avoided becoming intertwined with Voldemort, and once the war was over, they had eagerly embraced the new order in the Wizarding World. Astoria and her older sister, Daphne had spearheaded ORCA (Orphans Restructuring Care Association) and had made great inroads at successfully placing the many orphans created by the war into families. While Hermione knew the Greengrass sisters mostly planned soirees and events to support the association, the young women were not the tittering empty-headed idiots some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight seemed to be. As Hermione secretly watched the two women mill about her store, she realized that she never would have stood a chance against this beautiful, compassionate, elegant pure blood. Astoria really was perfect for Draco.

Hermione listened closely as Lavender spoke to the sisters, and her mouth dropped when she heard them ask to have  _ A Slice of Heaven _ design and create her and Draco’s wedding cake. As she heard Lavender sputter through a half-arsed answer, Hermione sprung from the back room and quickly accepted the opportunity to quote for the job. 

Hermione knew her already wounded pride would take more battering, but there was no way she could turn down the opportunity to design the cake. The press alone would be worth the continued insult to her ego. As Hermione led the two women to the consulting room, she heard Astoria say to her sister, “Well, let’s hope she is as good as Draco says she is. He was insistent we use this shop, no matter how much I told him I wanted to use Corinne’s Cake and Confections in Hogsmeade. But as this cake is the only thing he has shown the least bit of interest in, I figure I can give Granger here a try.”

From that moment, Hermione knew that she was going to charm this socialite and make this wedding cake. She wanted to do it for Draco, for the wonderful friendship they had, but more importantly to help herself move on. Surprisingly, she and Astoria worked very well together, and they had all the layers of the cake settled by the end of the first meeting. They decided on a six-layer cake – all rounds – each with a different flavour. The bottom layer was lemon raspberry sponge, filled with lemon curd and fresh raspberries. The second layer was a lavender blackberry sponge infused with lavender milk and sweet blackberry jam. The third was infused with chai tea and iced with maple meringue. The fourth was Hermione’s favourite – a light and airy sponge filled with tangy citrus and loaded with salted honey custard. The fifth was for Draco and his love of rich chocolate – a sinfully rich devil’s food she would make with her best dark chocolate. The top layer was for Astoria – an elegant Earl Grey Chiffon infused with rich Canadian maple syrup. 

The entire cake took six long days to bake, build, decorate, and assemble. Sonia was brilliant with her piping work, and the entire cake shimmered with subtle silver accents. Hermione trusted Sonia implicitly, but two nights before the wedding, she added one small item to the devil’s food layer – a tiny fondant otter. Perhaps if she was very lucky, and the gods were kind, Draco would select the piece where her otter was, and for a brief second, he would think of her. It was fanciful and highly improbable, but somehow it helped.

It was in the cellar of the bakery, with her reviewing every square inch of her creation that a very drunk Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, and Harry Potter found her twenty-four hours before the wedding. She knew her wards were keyed to Harry, but the sudden appearance of these three wizards stunned her silent. But even now, she could remember every single word Draco had said.

“Just wanted to see this little  _ confection  _ that Tori has been jabbering on about. Need to see what my galleons are paying for.” Draco slurred the words at her, surprisingly aggressive for reasons Hermione couldn’t even begin to name, but instantly raised her hackles.

“Your fiancé has excellent taste, Mr. Malfoy. She understands you get what you pay for. Now that you have seen the little “confection”, I suggest that you and your friends leave my store.” Hermione said all of this while staring accusingly at Harry, who just shrugged, and surreptitiously pointed at Theo.

“Leave…. you want me to leave, Miss Granger? I don’t really think I can do that. After all, with the amount of business I have sent your way, I could be part owner of this little _ endeavour _ of yours.” 

Hermione gasped in outrage and hurt at Draco’s snarled response, turning her back on the trio of men, in a desperate attempt to hide her tears. Harry was up in Draco’s face in a second, shoving him against the wall, telling him to back the fuck off, with Theo trying to drunkenly step between the two men.

The whole thing would have been ridiculous if Hermione wasn’t so upset. She had long suspected that Draco continued to quietly send business her way, but she always hoped that it was her wonderful creations, and great customer service that made her clients happy, and why they kept returning. Hearing Draco’s accusation nearly crushed her, throwing her back to that poor lonely eleven-year-old girl unwanted in the Wizarding World. 

Listening to the three men continue to squabble in her kitchen, Hermione finally found her voice and let loose. “Stop this nonsense before you damage this wedding cake that his fiancé loves, and his bloody galleons have paid for.” Uncaring, Hermione finally turned to them, tears streaming down her face. 

“Get out, all of you. I have work to do, and I cannot stand the sight of any of you. You, Nott with your foot in both worlds, so posh and so scared to admit your little crush on your best friend. Harry, why you would follow these absolute tossers here is beyond me, but you really need to find yourself some new friends. And Malfoy, you take your unwanted recommendations and shove them up your pure blood arse. I do not need your charity. Every success that I have EVER enjoyed I have EARNED on my own, by myself. I do not need you. I have never needed you, and I want you to LEAVE NOW and never set foot in my store again.” 

She had shrieked the last two words at Draco, and with as much dignity as she could muster, she walked out of the cellar into the main shop to hold the door open for them. Theo left without a word, Harry tried to hug her and mumble some kind of apology, but one raised eyebrow from her, and he gave it up for a lost cause. Forcing herself to look Draco in the eyes as he walked by, she was shocked when she realized he looked devastated. No smirk or look of disdain, just a look of complete and utter sadness. 

Her stupid traitorous heart started to ache and fell apart when he stopped and looked into her tear-stained face. “It’s perfect, Granger. And I’m sorry. So sorry. You’ve done nothing to deserve this. I’m just a coward, but it's perfection.”

And with that Draco Malfoy walked out of her life. 

***

Astoria Malfoy was over the moon about her cake, and it had been heavily featured in all the articles that were written about the wedding. Hermione’s already thriving business exploded, and a “ _ Heaven Cake _ ” became the gold standard for parties and events everywhere. Whenever Hermione saw photos of the cake, outwardly she maintained a cool, placid exterior, but in private, she poured over every single one, trying to discern if Draco seemed truly happy.

It was a balm to her broken heart that in almost every photograph, Draco Malfoy looked tired, and stressed, and in some, downright miserable. No one needed to know that tucked away under her bed was the one tiny photo of Draco she found eating a piece of the chocolate layer of her cake. No one needed to know that to her, the Draco in this picture looked so incredibly wretched that her faithless heart ached for him.

****

Hermione shook her head sharply, needing to pull herself from the past. She knew that her family and friends were concerned that she was lonesome. As she constantly reminded them, it wasn’t that she didn’t date, it was just that any relationship she did have tended to flame hot, and then fade to ashes quickly. The last eighteen months had been a particularly long dry spell, but she had been so busy with both Lavender and Susan on maternity leave that she had no time to invest in a new relationship. On the days when she was up to being completely honest with herself, she knew she hated wasting time on a wizard who would never measure up to Draco Malfoy. 

Over the years since his wedding, Hermione had gained a lot of perspective on her feelings and her actions, and while it had been exceptionally simple for her to fall in love with Draco, he had done absolutely nothing to encourage her crush, and he really hadn’t deserved the anger and hurt she had thrust at him the night before his wedding. 

Disregarding her therapist’s advice, Hermione still read every article written about The Malfoys, and often speculated on their happiness. Despite being married for almost three years, they had no children. They were rarely photographed together, and while they looked incredible together in photos, their expressions seemed contrived at best, and fake at worst. However, any time Hermione mentioned any of this to her friends, they reminded her that she just might be reading far too much into things again. 

They continued to run into each other a few times a year, at events and parties, and the exchanges were always polite. However, instead of the pain of the past, these encounters now left her wistful and wishing that life had dealt her a different hand. The Malfoys still used  _ A Slice of Heaven _ for every affair they hosted or occasion they celebrated but it was always Astoria or Narcissa who worked with Hermione and her staff on their orders.

Wiping her hands on her towel, Hermione heard the bell chime in the store letting her know that it had opened for customers. Hermione made her way to the front of her shop, ready to take the next order for what she was sure would be another request for her orange-infused chocolate wreathes– one of her best sellers for the Christmas season. 

However, instead of one of the holiday harried mums she was expecting, she found an immaculately dressed Draco Malfoy looking at her display case. Taking a moment to gather herself, she watched him move about her shop. Even to her heavily biased eye, he looked well. He was fit, and still exuded wealth and polish from every pore. However, she also took note of the deep circles under his eyes and the gentler set of his mouth. Taking a deep breath to calm her wildly beating heart, and yanking her professional persona into place, she stepped forward into the shop.

“Mr. Malfoy, welcome to  _ A Slice of Heaven _ , how can I help you? A slice of my walnut and pear coffee cake perhaps?” 

Slinking his hand across the top of the display, Draco spoke without even looking at Hermione, “You know, you might consider moving these strawberry tarts to the top shelf so that the lights can make the glaze shine. They would be so much more appealing that way.” 

Perhaps if she hadn’t been overworked, over-caffeinated, and over-emotional after her long walk down memory lane, Hermione would have handled his little dig as the conversation opener that it was. But seeing the man she had just spent the last few hours thinking about left her overwhelmed with an uneasy combination of anger, hurt, regret, and longing. Harnessing the fury, she let her temper override her good judgement. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, Draco Malfoy, to come into my establishment and tell me how to display my  _ pastries _ ? I will have you know that _ if  _ I placed these Merlin forsaken tarts under the damn lights, the clotted cream would separate. I never asked for your unsolicited advice, and I do not want or need your assistance, your opinion, or your presence. Now get the hell out of my store.” Hermione moved around the display, and pointed to the door, somewhat pleased that her hand and voice were steady. Fully expecting him to adhere to her request, she was shocked by his reply.

“No” 

“No? What do you mean no? Get out. Take your business elsewhere. Go bother some other stupid witch. Go lie to her, string her along, and make someone else miserable for the next decade because I am done.” 

Hermione hadn’t realized how close she had gotten to Draco during her tirade, and by the end of it, she was poking him quite hard in the chest. Tears of anger, hurt and frustration were threatening to spill over, and as she tried to turn around to hide them, two hands grabbed her upper arms to hold her in place.

“Let me go, how DARE you manhandle me, you brute. Let me…….” Hermione trailed off as she looked at the hand holding her right bicep. It was smooth, pale, and completely unadorned with any jewelry. As she let her mind go with the implications of what a completely bare left hand meant, she tried to pull herself out of Draco’s grasp. 

Letting her go, Draco carded a hand through his hair. “The divorce was final three months ago, Granger.”

Not sure she was even capable of speech given the pounding of her heart, she stumbled a few times with a response, and then finally settled with, “Why are you here, Draco?”

Even now, nearly three years since they had been this close, Hermione could tell he was nervous, even as he smirked at her.

“I was hoping to speak with the proprietor of this shop about the design and creation of the world’s most perfect dessert. Something grand and way over the top. Something that says I’m sorry, that shouts to the world that I’m an idiot. A confection that expresses my regret, and my hope that maybe somehow, someway, by the grace of every deity I have ever drunkenly sworn my allegiance to that the wonderful witch I need to talk to would allow me five minutes of her time.”

Knees shaking, Hermione lowered herself into one of the booths, and grabbing an order pad and quill, gestured for Draco to sit in the seat opposite her. “I have the perfect thing. A croquembouche. It’s gauche, over the top and ridiculously expensive. Your mystery woman will be impressed.” 

Hermione started to relentlessly tap the quill on the table, struggling to control her wildly swinging emotions. She risked a glance at Malfoy, all posh in his black dress robes, and was shocked to see him laser-focused on her face, waiting for her to continue. She schooled her features into what she hoped was something that resembled disinterest and continued. “But, Malfoy, perhaps this woman is not one to be impressed by such blatant displays of wealth and excess. Maybe she is the simpler sort. Maybe she would just prefer a nice slice of apple pie. You know, the tart kind that you eat with a wedge of cheddar.” 

Hermione’s tone was light as she spoke, but her hands were shaking with the import of this exchange. What she was suggesting was a seismic shift in the dynamic that had sustained and protected her the past few years. But sitting across from her was the only person who could make her whole. Terrified beyond measure at the uncomfortable silence that stretched between them, Hermione was seconds from bolting, when a large hand covered her tapping one. 

“Granger, I am thinking that I might just place an order for that pie. For Christmas Eve. I was hoping that you might be able to join me, maybe bring some of that cheddar you mentioned? Do you think your boss might let you off early?” Draco continued to look at her, with that devastating half-smile, and Hermione, for a brief small moment, considered saying no, but she was not the brightest witch of her age for nothing, and she wasn’t going to throw this second chance away.

Smiling as she settled the quill, and turning her hand to thread her fingers through his, she spoke, “My boss is a bit of a tyrant around the holiday season, but I can probably convince her to close by 8 pm if you want to come by and share some pie? We have a lot to talk about.” 

A huge grin on his face, Draco laughed, “Granger, those words usually strike fear into the hearts of wizards everywhere, but I owe you so many words ... I cannot wait to get started.” 

Hermione laughed, wondering how they had fallen so easily back into the banter that had sustained them in the past. However, anything else they were going to say was cut short when a frantic Lee Jordon barrelled into the store shouting his desperation for a dozen of Hermione’s salted caramel cupcakes to soothe the cravings of his six months pregnant wife. 

As more and more people entered the store, Hermione set to work filling their orders. Draco seemed content to watch her, sipping on her delicious coffee, but when noon hit and the lunch rush started, Hermione threw an apron at him and told him, “Make yourself useful and handle the cash.“ When Ginny arrived for her afternoon shift, it had been almost comical to watch her eyes widen and jaw drop at the sight of Draco behind the counter, with his eyes full of laughter and admiration for her brilliant friend. Ginny recovered quickly, nodded her head with a quick, “Malfoy,” in his direction, a quick wink in Hermione’s, and set to work.

****

It had taken many apple pies, and literally litres of coffee, for Draco to adequately explain all that had happened, and in the end, the explanation was more complex than anyone had ever thought. It seemed that the Greengrass and Malfoy family had a longstanding marriage contract which ensured that Draco would marry Astoria when they both came of age. However, by the end of Hogwarts, Draco had begun to develop deep romantic feelings for Hermione. Trying to be a good man, he was unwilling to pursue her until he knew he was free from the contract, both physically and magically.

On New Year’s Eve, Draco explained how both he and Astoria spent years trying to find a loophole in the contract but were unsuccessful. Faced with the loss of his magic if he tried to break the contact, Draco argued with his parents for weeks. When he broke down and confessed his growing feelings for Hermione, Lucius had told him to simply keep the Muggleborn as a mistress like many of the Malfoy men before him. When Hermione had asked why he hadn’t confided in her, his response broke her heart.

“You were the only thing in my life that was pure and good and wonderful. Whatever time I had left with you, I wanted it to be free of the drama my situation created. I knew if I told you, you would have spent your entire days and weeks trying to help me, and I just couldn’t do that. Just like I couldn’t leave the magical world either. I was a coward, Granger. So I married her, and I didn’t tell you, and I knew when you found out you would hate me, and stay away from me because I knew I couldn’t stay away from you, and you deserved so much more than to be a mistress.”

Draco’s eyes had filled with angry tears, and the sight of the man she loved in so much pain and regret finally allowed Hermione to move past whatever anger she was still holding onto. Draco Malfoy was a good man and he loved her. Draco had been strong the past few weeks while they were reconnecting, and now it was time for her strength to show. Gently taking his face in her hands, she whispered, “Draco, look at me.” 

Smiling gently at his obvious reluctance, she drew him towards her, gently brushing her lips against his. When he didn’t immediately respond to the tender pressure, she became more forceful, holding his head in place between her hands. Just as she started to pull back in an odd mixture of embarrassment and hurt, Draco stood, dragging her up with him, and kissed her with all the strength and passion of a man who had long denied himself. For a kiss that was meant to be conciliatory, it became carnal almost comically fast. Relief, passion, love, and lust had all combined into an incendiary explosion of teeth and tongue and hands. If it wasn’t for the shattering of their coffee cups, as they slammed into their table, Hermione knew exactly where they would have ended up. But instead of being naked amongst her fruit tarts, they rang in the New Year with laughter, love, and a lot of pastries.

**One Year Later**

“Hermione, you  _ have  _ to stop fussing with that cake. You know it’s perfect. Lavender will be here in twenty minutes with the hair and makeup people Narcissa hired. These lads need to load it into the car.” 

Laughing at Ginny, Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the thought of her meddling soon to be mother in law. She hadn’t wanted a stylist for her wedding day, but Draco had been so happy with his mother’s acceptance of them that Hermione took the small hit to her pride and agreed to some professional assistance on her wedding day.

Taking one last long look at her wedding cake, Hermione knew Ginny was right; it was perfect. It was a simple white tiered cake, decorated with fondant pearl roses, deep brown chocolate pinecones, and red berries. But it was what each layer contained that made it incredibly personal. The bottom layer was vanilla and sour cream filled with peach apricot preserves that Molly Weasley had made. The next layer was a light strawberry sponge infused with Ayala Rose Majeur Champagne from the Malfoys extensive wine cellar. The third layer was a rich banana filled with Bavarian cream that all her godchildren loved. The final two layers were their personal favourites: Valhrona chocolate for Draco, and a decadent carrot cake with raisins for Hermione. The topper was a stunning piece of sugar art – a glistening likeness of an arctic fox holding out a single perfect red rose to a tiny river otter. The nod to their patronuses was a surprise for her husband to be and Sonia has outdone herself with the details. Calling the delivery service back in, Hermione supervised the apparition and headed upstairs to wait for “Team Bride” to arrive.

Spinning in the mirror, Hermione had to admit she looked damn good. Lavender had ensured the style witches had kept her hair and makeup simple. Just her beautiful curls with a hair clip of red roses and holly to match her bouquet, and subtle cosmetics to highlight her “assets” — huge almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. 

Her dress was a gift from Narcissa; Hermione had a blast introducing her to Kleinfelds in New York. Her Vera Wang gown was a simple unadorned white silk creation with fitted long sleeves. The princess skirt and red velvet belt were breathtaking, and as Hermione spun on her red Ferragamo pumps, she was so thrilled to see the long-cherished vision of her winter wedding come to life. 

At 3:55 pm, Hermione and her attendants apparated to the edge of the Forest of Dean, where she was met with a scene of such beauty, she was rendered breathless. The Weasleys had spent the day creating a wreath like altar of greenery and sparkling lights, anchored by two massive urns filled with red roses and holly and ivy. Most importantly, off to one side was her ridiculously handsome groom in a “Malfoy black” tuxedo. The wizard she could not wait to  _ finally _ marry.

Watching Lavender, Susan and Ginny walk down the aisle to the strains of “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perry, Hermione smiled up into the happy faces of her best friends in the entire world, linked arms, and walked towards her heart's desire. After the quiet service ended with Draco spinning her around the altar to the delight of their audience, they all sat down for dinner under massive white tents magically heated.

Quietly swaying to the music hours later, Hermione looked up at her new husband, surprised to find him frowning down at her, eyes suspiciously misty. 

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Pulling him gently off the dance floor, Hermione found a small bench away from prying eyes, where they sat. Gathering his hands in hers, she was surprised to find that her groom wouldn’t look her in the eyes. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, “I’ve wasted so much time. We could have had all this years ago if I had just found a speck of courage. Years lost, Granger, because I was a damned coward. How can you ever forgive me?”

Hermione instantly wanted to dismiss what Draco had just said as nonsense, but she knew the past few years weighed heavily on his mind. Knowing she was making him nervous by not reacting, she spoke softly, “Well first of all, its Malfoy, not Granger. Has been for about six hours now, and I’ll thank you to remember that. “ When she saw the hint of a smile, she continued, “I know it will not surprise you that I have spent some time thinking about all that wasted time you speak of, and I truly think we needed to walk that rambling path to get us  _ here _ . This was  _ our  _ timeline and whatever mistakes we made to get here; we can’t really regret them. After all, nothing is really a mistake if it leads you to exactly where you are meant to be.”

When Draco drew his beautiful bride back to the dance floor, his smile was incandescent. Every one of their guests smiled indulgently as the couple swayed to the music, knowing that maybe, just maybe love needs a second chance because it wasn’t ready the first time around.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
